


Gone

by Somerandomauthorrr



Category: Avengers
Genre: M/M, Self destructive actions, Steve is Fucked Up, Stucky - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, everyone’s a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 05:31:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15236412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somerandomauthorrr/pseuds/Somerandomauthorrr
Summary: Bucky’s gone, and Steve has run out of ways to cope.





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t that good, but is any of my work?

Once Bucky was gone, Steve was too.  
He fought, because that’s what he does best. He takes out any aggression he’s pent up on the person he’s fighting.  
That worked.  
Temporarily.  
Captain America went into the jaws of death,and not once did he come back satisfied.  
Each time he complained of how it could have gone much smoother if Bucky was there. How Bucky would have done better. What Bucky would do. Buck, Bucky, Bucky…  
Eventually, he started hoping he wouldn’t come back.  
Without Bucky, the world dulled. Nobody was there to tease him when he slipped up. Nobody was there to take his hand and talk to him calmly until he relaxed. Nobody was there to tell him they loved him even when he was doing something idiotic. Bucky wasn’t there to keep him grounded. To keep him stable. To pull him back from the brink of madness. 

“Steve, you can’t keep doing this-“ “the fuck I can.” He snapped at Tony, not even bothering to regard the venom in his tone. “You lost Peter. How can you possibly be okay?”  
“I’m not, but I’m holding it together until we can get them back. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Steve. You’ve got to focus.” “How can I? He’s dead, Tony. Dust. Fucking dust. You think I can just move on with it? I’m nothing without Bucky.” He slammed his fists on the table, almost cracking the wood. “You hear me? I’m nothing without him. I was nothing then, I’m nothing now. Without Bucky I…”  
He sighed heavily, forcing away tears.  
“Without Bucky I can barely breathe. Not to mention work. Productivity isn’t an option anymore.”  
He stormed off, heading outside. 

 

He resorted to drinking. No matter how much he drank, it never worked. Bottle after bottle, he remained the same. It got to the point where he practically begged Thor for anything left from Asgard. Anything to numb him for just a little bit. To give him a break from the constant reminders of his dead partner. 

“Captain, I don’t believe you should be drinking too much of this-“ “I just asked for some. I didn’t ask for a life lesson. I know I shouldn’t, but is that stopping you?”  
Thor glanced down at the flask in his hands. The one he set next to Loki’s knife he kept. He extended his occupied palm out. “Captain, I’m warning you. You are heading down a dangerous path. I do not believe you can come back from this.”  
Steve grasped the flask, pouring the contents into a glass. “What makes you think I want to?” 

It dulled things slightly, just enough to cloud his judgement. Not enough to completely knock him out of place.  
He screamed. He cried. He threw bottles against the wall in rage, wailing that it should have been him. How he shouldn’t have had to watch his best friend and lover collapse into ashes in front of him. 

Steve begged for something to kill him. 

 

Steve was reckless. He did anything that could, unintentionally or not, have any type of physical repercussions. He wanted a reaction from himself he couldn’t obtain. He’d slam bottles against the wall and trip over the shattered glass. He’d beat his fists against the wall until blood decorated it. He screamed until his throat was raw. He did anything to escape the numb state he’d submerged himself in, even if it was for a brief moment. 

Banner eventually resorted to restraining him.  
He had spent weeks indulging in his self-destructive behavior, and while is body hadn’t paid much of a price, his mental state certainly did.  
He could barely speak. His voice would give out halfway through sentences. He would constantly mumble to himself about what Bucky would say. What Bucky would have done. What he would do to bring Bucky back. He hardly slept, considering when he did all he heard was his screaming, and his name echoing through his head.  
“Steve?”  
If he heard it one more time, he might just lose it, more than he already has.  
Bruce pinned his arms down with metal cuffs, all the way up to his shoulder. His legs were treated the same way. A large metal cuff was placed around his torso.  
“This is merely a precaution-“ “What do you plan on doing? Keeping me here until the world collapses? It’s already done that. All we can do is improve.” “Not if you’re batshit crazy. This hit you harder than anyone I’ve seen. And Tony hasn’t touched his suit in months. You can’t keep doing this to yourself Steve.”  
He sighed heavily, weakly holding back tears. They threatened to spill over his cheeks, pooling on his collarbone. “What else is left to do Bruce? I have nothing left. Without Bucky, I have nothing.”  
He pulled against the cuffs, screaming once again. “Without Bucky, I have nothing! I am nothing!”  
Bruce quickly backed up, grabbing a sedative. “This is twice the recommended dose. I’m sorry.”  
He injected it through his neck, the only available vein.  
Steve felt his body relax quickly, pulling him into a dull rest. 

 

He woke up hours later in his room.  
Bruce the rest of the shattered avengers stood around him.  
Natasha was the first to speak. “I know Barnes is gone, but-“  
“His name is Bucky. Call him that.”  
She sighed heavily. “I know Bucky is gone, but he wouldn’t have wanted this. You need to knock this shit off and help us find a way to reverse this.”  
“I can’t.” “Don’t say that, Steve. You can. You just refuse to.”  
He slowly nodded, eyes scanning their faces.  
Thor looked worried. Natasha shared the expression. Bruce seemed indifferent. Tony looked deeply disappointed.  
“We need our best man back.”  
Steve scoffed, rolling his light eyes. “I’m not even close to your best man. We have a Hulk. We have fucking Stark. Natasha. We have a God, Tony. You don’t need me. I’m just a glorified Uncle Sam with a frisbee.”  
“Shut up Steve.” He wasn’t expecting a slap to the face, but he most definitely got one. “We need you.” “But I don’t need this.”  
He forced his way past everyone. Steve left. He went back outside, per the usual. 

 

Steve looked at the quinjet, a familiar pit in his stomach returning. He considered it. Many times. He planned it out.  
He’d get in, fly it up to a high enough altitude, and fly it straight into the ground. Just like before. But he couldn’t ever really bring himself to do it. Each time he thought of what Bucky said to him once he found out about it.  
“Don’t you ever think of doing something like that again you punk.”  
He owed it to him to listen for once. Even if he never acknowledged anything else he complained about, he would listen to that.  
Natasha sat down beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder. “You weren’t think about pulling another stunt like what you did before, were you?”  
“Of course not.” It rolled off his tongue so smoothly. It scared him how easily he could lie to Natasha.  
“You do realize Bar-Bucky would’ve wanted you to take care of yourself, right?” “Probably. He’d be yelling at me about this if he were here.”  
Natasha sighed heavily, glancing back at the door. “Shuri and Tony think they have something. Possibly a lead on how to get everyone back. But it could be a while. I just need you to hang on for a bit longer, and we can get him back.” 

Steve nodded, his eyes following the setting sun.  
He couldn’t cope with Bucky being gone, at least not productively.  
But maybe, he could wait a bit longer.  
Just enough to get him back.  
Then he wouldn’t have to.


End file.
